Oriental Dagobas.--Ancient City of Pollonarua.--Laid out
like our Modern Capitals.--Unexplored Ruins.--Elaborate
Stone Carvings.--Colossal Stone Figure.--The "Buried
Cities."--The Singhalese not a Progressive People.--Modern
History of Ceylon.--Captured by the English.--The
"Resplendent Island."--Commercial Prosperity.--Increasing
Foreign Population.--Under English Rule.--Native
Soldiers.--Christian Sects and Churches.--Roman Catholic
Church.--Expulsion of the Jesuits.
The very interesting and in many respects unique ruins of
Anuradhapura, like those pertaining to the city of Pollonarua, with
its curious and enormous mass of crumbling brick-work in the shape of
a dagoba surmounted by a temple, are supposed to have been thus
mouldering in the dust for more than six centuries. These dagobas,
doting with age, as we have shown, are relic shrines, like in purpose
to the pagodas of Burmah, which they somewhat resemble. Their
substantial outside finish must have given them very much the
appearance of being built of pure white marble. In dimensions they are
exceeded only by the pyramids of Ghizeh, but there is no genius or
architectural excellence evinced in the construction of either. Judged
by the light of our day, there is no legitimate reason for their
existence. Religious fanaticism gave birth to one, and personal pride
to the other. They neither subserve the purpose of utility nor of
beauty. As monuments of personal aggrandizement, or as individual
memorials, what total failures they have proved! Think for a single
moment of the vast contrast between either of the Egyptian pyramids,
or these bell-shaped dagobas, with their plain stuccoed coverings, and
that modern shrine and tomb combined,--the Taj Mahal of Agra. The
pyramids and dagobas are crude, barbaric embodiments of bulk and
imposing loftiness; the other is a realization in marble of a poetic
dream. The former are remarkable only for magnitude; the latter, for
its exquisite grace.
There is sufficient evidence still left us to show that the olden city
of Pollonarua was laid out in a perfectly systematic way, and built up
in the most regular manner. Its founders evidently started with a
well-perfected purpose. It was not a chance settlement of a few
cabins, which gradually increased hither and thither in various
directions until it assumed the proportions of a metropolis.
Notwithstanding the present confusion, the general features of its
topography are clearly discernible amid the mounds of mouldering
material. The main street from the principal entrance-gate continued
perfectly straight for four miles between royal palms to the opposite
extreme of the city, crossed at right angles in the centre by a
similar thoroughfare, thus forming two main streets, which terminated
at four great gates of entrance and exit to and from the
town,--north, east, south, and west. From these main streets radiated
lateral and smaller roadways, evidently occupied by humbler dwellings,
together with an occasional temple or other public building. The ruins
of what is known as the Treasure House of Pollonarua are unusually
interesting, as exhibiting some of the finest and best preserved
bas-reliefs to be found in Ceylon, and as showing also certain marked
peculiarities of skill in architecture which prevailed in
pre-Christian times. On either side of the principal thoroughfares of
the city were handsome and substantial dwellings, palaces, and sacred
temples. The latter, with their gorgeous gilded domes, were dedicated
to various pagan gods. Other spacious buildings and open areas were
devoted to pleasure entertainments for the masses of the people, not
unlike the modern idea of public gardens and outdoor theatres.
Here and there labyrinths of unexplored ruins are entirely hidden by
lofty, broad-limbed trees and a tangle of low, dense shrub, as though
the big city had been originally built in a forest. We pause, and gaze
thoughtfully at the desolation which speaks so emphatically in its
dumb way. It is the language in which the decline and fall of great
empires is written,--monuments of mutability.
"Tully was not so eloquent as thee,
Thou nameless column with the buried base."
It is not to be wondered at that learned European antiquarians make
pilgrimages hither to see with their own eyes what others have
graphically described, and to translate for themselves these
black-letter records of by-gone ages. We met at Pollonarua one
enthusiastic traveler who had neither eyes nor ears for anything else
but that which related to the almost forgotten past. The mouldering
ruins of Ceylon were food and drink to him, with which he gorged
himself to repletion. Each new student of antiquity who comes hither,
being informed of the progress of those who preceded him, takes up the
thread of discovery where they left it, and adds something to illumine
the darkness which enshrouds these sombre ruins.
It could not always have been peaceful in these populous cities of the
past, where strange gods and strange customs prevailed. The
imagination easily depicts dire tragedies and bloody conflicts which
must have drenched their broad avenues with blood. Such has been the
history of the world since the beginning of time.
The best-preserved construction amid all the ruins is a Buddhist
rock-temple, which, having been hewn out of the native stone, is still
intact, though supposed to date back three hundred years before our
era. It is only a small chamber about twenty feet square, containing
an altar and three stone figures of Buddha in different positions,
sitting, reclining, and standing. The entrance to the chamber is an
archway; on either side, inscriptions are engraven in the Pali
language, but these, we were informed, had never been translated. The
native rock, from which the small temple is cut, rises abruptly from
the level plain.
Anuradhapura, as wonderful in its way as Pompeii or Herculaneum, is
known as the ancient capital of Ceylon, and Pollonarua as the
mediaeval, but even the former is antedated by other half-buried cities
in the island, that of Bintenne, for instance, which exhibits ruins of
great interest and of admitted antiquity. There is a dagoba here which
is spoken of by the former Dutch occupants of the island, in A. D.
1602, as being still in good preservation, surmounted by a gilded
dome, while its smooth, white exterior was quite unblemished. The wear
and tear of the centuries has not yet obliterated this monument.
These dagobas, shaped like half an eggshell, are very similar to the
topes of India proper. The interior consists of earth and sun-dried
clay, built about and rendered substantial with burned bricks and
tiles, the whole being coated on the exterior with a stone-like mortar
or chunam. The burned bricks which are found in the debris of the
"buried cities" have their form quite perfect, and were so well fired
when made that they still retain their sharpness and consistency. The
best examples of brick-work are to be found among the ruins of
Pollonarua, where the mortar that was originally used shows the
remains of the burned pearl-oyster shells from which it was made. The
principle of the true arch secured by its keystone does not seem to
have been understood by the people of that period in this island,
though what is called the false arch, produced by projecting one layer
of bricks beyond another, is clearly shown. The carving in stone was
carried to a high degree of excellence, and is still in good
preservation, as shown upon slabs, risers to steps, and on octangular
columns of graceful proportions. The entrance to some of the
cave-temples also exhibits ability in the carving of stone which is of
no mean quality, depicting innumerable single figures and many groups.
None of the Indian topes are more than half as large as these Ceylon
dagobas. The latter were solid, hemispherical masses, standing upon a
raised square platform of granite six or eight feet high, and
approached by broad stone steps. The incrustation of the dome-like
edifice was after the fashion of our modern stucco process, except
that it was very much more thickly laid on. The preparation consisted
of lime, cocoanut water, and the glutinous juice of a fruit which
grows upon the paragaha-tree. This compound was pure white when dried
and hardened, receiving a polish like glass, and was remarkable for
durability.
We were told of, but did not see, carved stone capitals and
elaborately draped monoliths, found among the ruins of Bintenne, which
represented early perfection in architecture as displayed in a region
now indeed barbaric, but where a civilization flourished in the far
past in all the pride and pomp of oriental grandeur. To-day, the
jackal and the panther, unmolested by man, prowl about the spot in
search of prey.
When the hosts who formed the population of these long-buried cities
disappeared we may not know, nor what fate befell them. There are many
intelligent theories about the matter, but very little positive
evidence. The most plausible supposition would seem to be that a
devastating famine must have been the fatal agent. Most of the works
which these people left behind them, except the bell-shaped and nearly
indestructible dagobas, are now covered with rank vegetation. The
first structure of this character erected at Anuradhapura is still
extant, and is believed by some writers to be one of the oldest
architectural monuments in India. With this conclusion we certainly
cannot agree, as the chronicles tell us it was raised by King Tissa,
at the close of the third century before Christ, over the collar-bone
of Buddha. The author has seen at Benares many sacred structures, some
in ruins, which are much more ancient. After all, these milestones of
the centuries afford us little data by which to unravel the mysteries
of the past in Ceylon. They are only isolated mementos, forming
disjointed links in the chain connecting us with by-gone ages, mute
but eloquent witnesses of a former and high degree of civilization.
The most erudite antiquarian finds no coherent or reliable history in
such crumbling monuments; generalities only can be deduced from them,
however suggestive and interesting they may prove.
Neither the ancient nor the modern Singhalese seem to have had any
distinctive order of architecture, though the variety which they
adopted was infinite. Here, among these half-defaced ruins, one
detects Egyptian, Greek, Roman, and Moorish inspirations, calculated
to puzzle the scientist as to their probable origin. The singular
conglomerates of our own day are not more confusing than some of the
best-preserved specimens to be found in these ruined cities of ancient
Ceylon.
Another notable object of antiquarian interest in the island is
recalled in this connection. It is that of a colossal, upright figure
of Buddha, a figure hewn out of the solid rock, to which it is still
attached, though it is statuesque and not in bas-relief, the original
material only furnishing its support at the back. This rude piece of
sculpture is fifty feet in height and otherwise duly proportioned,
vividly recalling the mammoth bronze statue of Dai-Butsu at Kamakura,
in Japan, which is nearly sixty feet in height, though it is
represented in a sitting position. Within this statue fifty people can
stand together, the interior being fitted like a chapel. As regards
antiquity, the Japanese figure is supposed to be but six centuries in
age, while that of Ceylon is surely three times as old, and probably
four. The great Singhalese statue is now in the jungle, which has
grown up about it during centuries of neglect, near to the great Tank
of Kalawera. The surrounding rocks were in ancient days turned into a
cave-temple with infinite labor, by hewing and excavating them into
chambers of suitable dimensions. Without excellent tools of steel and
iron, very nearly approaching in efficiency those of our own time,
this could not possibly have been accomplished.
The carved pillars, fluted, beveled, and spiral columns, mounds of
ruined masonry, crumbling flights of stone steps, ornamental fragments
of temples, and granite statues skillfully wrought which are scattered
in all directions throughout the jungle, in some instances overgrown
by tall trees, attest both departed greatness and far-reaching
antiquity. Broken bricks, tiles, and sculpture are so knit together by
snakelike tree-roots, while shaded by their lofty branches, as to form
one solid mass for hundreds of rods together, dotted here and there by
simple wild flowers which modestly rear their delicate petals and
perfume the air. One represents the tomb of decayed magnificence and
oriental luxury, the other is the sweet and simple emblem of Nature
undefiled. Thus she covers up the wrinkles of age with blooming
vegetation, screening the mouldering architecture of a forgotten race
beneath fresh arboreal and floral beauties. There still remain, though
partially buried beneath the earth, the suggestive memorials of a
prosperous and energetic people, who were once the possessors of this
beautiful Indian isle. These decaying monuments are at the same time
indisputable evidence of the high civilization which once existed
here, and also, sad to realize, of the deterioration of the Singhalese
as a people. However gradual may have been the decadence of the race
from the proud condition of their ancestors who built the "buried
cities," the contrast is so strong to-day as to seem singularly
abrupt, notwithstanding the intervening centuries.
Fifty years ago, it was only at the risk of one's life that these
famous ruins of Ceylon could be reached. Such expeditions were not
even attempted without a strong escort and governmental aid. Hostile
native tribes and equally fatal malarial influences, together with
almost impassable forests and unbridged rivers, were all arrayed
against the curious visitor. This is now changed so that enterprising
travelers can with but little trouble enjoy a view of some of the most
extraordinary monuments to be found in the East, and which are of much
more than ordinary archaeologic and artistic interest.
In this neighborhood, at Vigitapora, are the ruins of a city, once a
royal residence, which is more ancient than Anuradhapura. This place
was a populous centre five hundred years before the Christian era, of
which there seems to be little if any record preserved, even in the
comprehensive pages of that national text-book, the Mahawanso.
The native tribes of Ceylon cannot be said to form a progressive race,
even under the advantages which modern civilization affords them.
Their present condition is one of dormancy. Those who form the rising
generation, after enjoying school advantages to a certain degree, on
arriving at the age of responsibility lapse, with some exceptions,
into the condition of their parents. Thus many of our Western Indians,
who in youth have been educated in schools presided over by the
whites, return finally to their native surroundings, promptly adopting
from choice the barbaric methods and rude life of their roaming
tribes. There is a certain wild instinct which it seems almost
impossible to eradicate. A few native Singhalese have availed
themselves of the opportunities freely extended to them, and have
risen to position and influence both with their own race and the
European population. There are also descendants of English fathers and
native mothers, who, after enjoying special advantages, have developed
into intelligent manhood, and who form a recognized element of the
community. A native Singhalese is, or was very lately, judge of the
supreme court of Ceylon, while the offices of attorney-general and
government solicitor were, and we believe still are, filled by
natives. Others of the same race are respected as county judges,
magistrates, and leading barristers.
So far as current history can be relied upon, we find that Ceylon was,
from five hundred years and more before the Christian era up to the
time of its annexation to Great Britain, the almost constant victim of
foreign and civil wars. Indeed, this seems to have been the chronic
condition of the world at that period. The Portuguese first and the
Dutch afterward took possession of the island, the latter being
finally expelled by the English, who promptly fortified and have held
it ever since.
The rapacity, bigotry, and cruelty which characterized the rule of the
Portuguese in Ceylon forms one of the darkest pages in the history of
European colonization. An eminent writer upon the period says very
tersely and truly that these people first appeared in the Indian Ocean
in the threefold character of merchants, missionaries, and pirates,
more fully illustrating the last named than the other two occupations.
No other nation save Spain has written its autobiography in such
glaring letters of blood.
When Ceylon was first acquired by the English, it was placed in the
hands of the East India Company, being so intimately connected with
India proper, of which that organization held control. In 1798,
however, it became a possession of the English crown, and was
confirmed to Great Britain by the Treaty of Amiens. The dominion of
the Portuguese and the Dutch lasted for nearly the same length of
time, each holding the island for about one hundred and forty years,
both periods being characterized by innumerable conflicts with the
natives and with foreign invaders. The Portuguese, and especially the
Dutch, left lasting memorials of their occupancy in the form of
fortifications, churches, stone dwellings, and the like, which were so
well built as to be still serviceable.
The rich pearl fisheries, and the native product of choice, much
coveted gems, were constant allurements for the possession of the
"resplendent island," causing the surrounding powers to regard it as a
vast treasure house, upon whose possessors they cast envious eyes. On
taking the island, as already intimated, England adopted prompt and
efficient measures to fortify her possession in such a manner that no
one has since cared to dispute her claim. In such matters the English
have always pursued an omnivorous policy. No spot of land seems too
small or too insignificant to tempt their cupidity, and none too large
for their capacious maw,--India, for example.
As in the instance of Malta, also under British rule for so many
years, Ceylon has thriven and prospered wonderfully, that is to say in
a commercial point of view, which after all is the conventional test.
Would that the same commendation might apply to the moral and
educational condition of the Singhalese! However, where peace and
plenty, together with seeming content, prevail, let us not seek for
hidden troubles. The island is to-day indisputably a most flourishing
agricultural colony, self-supporting, except as regards the military
establishment maintained by the home government, which expense is not
justly chargeable to Ceylon, whose peaceable inhabitants require no
military force to keep them in subjection. The simplest police
organization accomplishes this, though in former times, under
insufferable tyranny of petty princes and foreign invaders, the
Singhalese proved that they could fight for, and hold their own
against considerable odds. Unless outrageously oppressed, they are of
too peaceable a nature to arouse themselves to open rebellion.
A simple glance at the situation shows great progress throughout the
island since it came into the possession of Great Britain. Barbarous
habits and institutions have been gradually reformed; taxes which were
formerly exhaustive have been greatly modified, and in many instances
entirely removed; from a condition of slavery, the masses have been
made free, now enjoying entire personal liberty; the districts of the
interior, heretofore inaccessible, have been open to easy and safe
travel; compulsory labor has been abolished; education has been
brought within the reach of all; large sections of territory have been
drained, and brought from an unhealthy condition to one of comparative
salubrity; mild and just laws are in operation; civil wars and foreign
invasions have ceased, and a peaceful condition of every-day life is
established. Such are some of the great improvements which have
accrued under English rule. This statement is made as a simple matter
of fact, not as an argument that England has a legitimate right on the
island, any more than she has in India. But the prosperity of the
Singhalese is no less a fact, and very pleasant to record.
The population of the island has more than doubled under the present
dynasty, while its marketable products have quadrupled. A few
pertinent facts occur to us in this connection which must surely
interest the general reader.
There are now about three hundred miles of railway in operation on the
island, and nearly as many more projected. To supplement this means of
transportation there are a hundred and seventy-five miles of organized
canal service, a legacy inherited from the Dutch. There are two
hundred and fifty post-offices, besides forty telegraphic stations, in
connection with which are sixteen hundred miles of telegraphic wire in
position. In this march of progress the interests of education have
not been entirely forgotten, and upon the whole, the Singhalese have
very little to complain of as regards the government under which they
live. Fate, however, has decreed that this people, as a nationality,
shall gradually pass away and be forgotten, like other aboriginal
races. The Alaska Indians are not more surely dying out than are these
Singhalese. The most sensitive matter with them and with nearly all
orientals is touching the sacredness of their religious rites. With
these the English government never interferes, neither here nor in
India proper. As we have shown, the orientals are a peaceable race,
and will submit to a considerable degree of arbitrary rule touching
their political relations, but the moment their religious convictions
and ceremonies are interfered with, they become frenzied.
It will be remembered that the great Indian mutiny, which occurred in
1857, was at first incited in the ranks of the natives at Cawnpore and
elsewhere by what was thought to be an intentional insult to their
religious convictions.
The English, soon after establishing themselves in Ceylon, tried the
experiment of forming a battalion of infantry, composed of the
natives. When being trained to service, it was nearly impossible, we
are told, to teach them not to fire away their ramrods as the real
missiles of destruction. There is a certain effeminacy inherent in all
rice-eating nations, and yet what did not the former people of this
island achieve in the building of great cities, grand palaces, and
temples of stone? It would almost seem as though the Singhalese of the
present day could not belong to the same race as the people who built
Anuradhapura before Christ was born.
Many of the prominent Christian sects have churches and missionary
establishments in the island. It has long been a popular missionary
field with several denominations, more particularly in the northern
part. The most numerous is that of the Roman Catholic Church, whose
leaders began their system of proselyting the natives as far back as
the first establishment of the Portuguese in Ceylon. The faith which
they presented addressed itself with all its theatrical effect to the
fancy of the ignorant Singhalese, especially as the cunning priests
took good care to mingle certain local Buddhistical ceremonies with
those which they introduced. There are shrines and temples in Ceylon,
in what are called Roman Catholic districts, where the images of
Buddha and the Virgin Mary both hold honored places. Is the worship of
one any more idolatrous than of the other? It has been well said that
the idol is the measure of the worshiper. People who never thought for
themselves were thus attracted. They formed a class whose very
ignorance made them easy converts. Had they been able or inclined to
reason upon the subject, it would not have been permitted. They had to
swallow the creed as a whole, at a single gulp, being approached with
the sword in one hand and the cross in the other.
Absolutism in faith is synonymous with ignorance. The right of inquiry
is the privilege of every human being, though it is denounced as
heretical by the Romish Church. Only falsehood fears investigation;
only chicanery dreads the light. The hateful Inquisition tried to
carry on its bloodthirsty practices here under Portuguese rule, but
was summarily driven out of Ceylon by the Dutch, with its vile
nunneries and its instruments of torture. So the French, during their
brief possession of the island of Malta, expelled a similar Jesuitical
crew from Valetta, not, however, before they had recorded their
diabolical deeds in letters of blood, now burning a "heretic," and now
mangling an intractable convert.